Basic Decorum
by The Bumble and the Bee
Summary: Tim Shepard is too mean to play well with nice girls, but somehow, he can't bring himself to care about that.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton does

**Title:** Basic Decorum

**Summary: **Tim Shepard is too mean to play well with nice girls, but somehow, he can't bring himself to care about that.

Prologue

There ain't much to see from the back porch at Bucks. A tiny sparse yard that overlooks a few other dumpy houses, and beyond that a few industrial buildings with constantly smoking chimneys. Occasionally, a couple that lives in one of the other houses will get into some blow-out fight, and if anyone is out back they'll give a shout and people will swarm the yard and throw their own jeers in, but today it's silent.

Tim goes out to smoke, because he only smokes when he needs to think and you can't do that inside anyways. He had come that night because Margret Sullivan, this chick he'd been trying to get with for a week or so now, was supposed to be there. She was, but so was Ned Quill, a pal of his, who told him some unfortunate news concerning the RKs taking about twenty bucks worth of beer from this shop on a corner that they had clearly agreed was the Shepard's turf. And as hot as Margret Sullivan was in her tight red dress and pumps that made her legs look about a mile long, he had bigger fish to fry.

Now, normally, he wouldn't be too bothered by news like that. Find out who did it, beat the ever loving shit out of them, and forget the whole deal. But things with the RKs had been weird the past few weeks. Now, the Shepard gang and the RKs weren't _friends_, not by any means, but they had an understanding and got along well enough, except for a few fights over idiotic shit. But lately they'd been testing things. Getting close to the border, flirting with girls they knew were taken, throwing out insults casually. And now this.

Tim wasn't stupid. Something was up, and he wasn't going to walk into an open trap. If they were trying to pick a fight, he wanted to know why before he made a dumb choice.

But it wasn't like he could let that slide. Then they'd think he was giving up, and he never went down without a fight. So he's in a pretty tight spot, since he has to retaliate but has to be careful about how to go about it.

So he needs a smoke.

He's just figuring out a scheme when the door slides open and a girl steps out. He glances up to her, then back out over the yard. She's small, with light brown hair and big brown eyes. She's pretty pale. Her figure isn't anything worth taking notice of her clothing for.

She sort of nods at him and then walks as far down the porch as possible, placing her palms on the rail, leaning over, and throwing up.

It's pretty disgusting.

And distracting.

And it takes a while.

When she's done, she looks up and blushed bright pink. He tries not to look disgusted.

"It's not that I'm drunk," she says in this small, sweet voice. She's clearly embarrassed, be it because she puked or because of what he might attribute it to.

"I'm not judging."

"Oh. Well. Anyways- I'm not drunk. I'm just sick."

"If you say so."

"I do."

There's a long moment of silence. She reapplies her lipstick- it's this baby pink color that, and then he notices her smeared mascara.

"Are you _crying_?"

Tim doesn't do crying girls. Unless it's Angela, in which case it's a different story. But as a general rule, no crying.

"What? no."

A pause.

"Maybe."

Another pause.

"So what if I am?"

"I was just asking."

"Well, please don't."

He shrugs.

"Fine by me."

They stand there in silence. He's smoking, she's crying. A bit loudly. Finally, he asks.

"Look, do you need some water or something? Because all I've got is a beer."

She shakes her head.

"I don't drink, but thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"I really wasn't drunk. I'm just- I'm just not feeling to well."

Looking past the streaked mascara, he notices she's actually pretty. Not stunning or hot or anything like Margret Sullivan, but really damn pretty.

"But you came to Bucks?" it's only sort of a question. He doesn't care if she tells him or not. But the way he sees it, she's not leaving soon and he can't quite think with her crying and what not, so he might as well see what he can make of this.

"I wasn't going to, on account of the whole, you know-" she gestures to the vomit. "That's why I told Gerry, my boyfriend, well, my _ex_ boyfriend, I guess- anyhow, that's why I told him he could go without me."

Tim knows where this story ends now, but she's not crying when she's talking, so he figured he'll let her finish.

"But I felt rotten about ditching him to go alone to a party, so I caught a ride with another friend of mine." her lip quivers then, and her next sentence is all warbling. "But I guess he wasn't as alone as I though..."

She hiccups.

"Sounds like an ass. I don't see why you're crying over that sort of fucker."

Angela once reprimanded him on his lack of empathy. He figures she would throw a fit if she saw him now. Angela is real mean when she wants to be, but she usually only wants to be when she's got a personal stake in something. She was never catty to a crying stranger.

"Well- Well, see, it's just that I dated him for a year, and he just _cheated_ like that..."

"From the way you tell the story, I don't figure it was _just like that_. Unless it was the first time you let him go to a party by himself."

From her expression, that was not the right thing to say.

"Look," he corrects, because even though she doesn't seem like the loud type, he doesn't want to risk getting an earful. It ain't worth the trouble, "All I'm saying is that you're pretty cute, and you seem sweet enough, so don't waste your breath crying over a dick who's gonna cheat with the first thing with breasts and long legs he sees."

He tries to sound sincere. It's true, a girl like her can probably score some nice guy who will treat her right. But being one of those guys he's warning her against makes it hard not so roll his eyes when he spouts the same shit he heard Angela blab about on the phone.

For whatever reason, this makes the girl smile a bit through her tears.

"Thanks. Really." she heads towards the porch door, but right before she heads in, she turns back to him and smiles. "You're a pretty nice guy, you know?" and then she's gone.

Tim just stands there, eyebrows raised, smirking. Then he turns back so he's looking out from the porch, and wonders whose nose he has to break to keep things from escalating before he figures this RK shit out.

* * *

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	2. Part One

**Notes:** Thank you so much for the reviews!

Chapter One

It happens on a Thursday.

Ned Quill and Will Burdge, two members of the Shepard gang, happen to look wrong at Danny Thompson and Stephen Dirk, two members of the River Kings who just so happened to rob a small shop on Shepard turf a few days back. A few choice words are traded, and Dirk, not one to hold his temper in, lets the first swing go.

Tim was very insistent on Dirk and Thompson swinging first.

Unfortunately for Dirk, Quill is a giant and Will is lean but strong, like a coiled spring attached to a fifty-pound brick. The RK boys leave with their tails between their legs and a few broken bones.

A week later, Thompson moves to Florida with his mother and Dirk shows up as school with a face so swollen he can't see out of his left eye.

"I swear Tim, neither of us fucked him up that bad."

They're on the top level of a car-park by the factory. No one ever parks there, because the factory shut down a few months ago, but they're still careful and listen for noise. Sometimes kids like to mess around here.

Quill is there, and Will, and Red and Whit. Tim sits on the hood of his car and hears Quill out.

"When they split, Dirk had a broken nose and a cut on his forehead, and a few busted ribs. But it wasn't that bad."

Will nods in agreement. He's tall, and has this mop of curly brown hair. He's handsome enough to always have a girlfriend and always bee looking out for a new one. He's also pretty good at knowing when it's time to be serious, and his face doesn't have a hint of a smile.

Quill, built like a brick shithouse, is surprisingly smart and reasonable, which is good to have in a guy his size. He's not book smart or even close too, but he does okay.

"And none of my other boys could have done this?"

"I gave clear instructions. None of them would."

Red is his second in command, at least until Curly grows a brain and a few inches. He rolled into town a few years back, and Tim is the only person who knows his real name. They kid would look dweebish, all red hair and a bit scrawny and freckled, but he's got a scar the size of Texas running straight across his face and is rumored to be good enough with a knife to hand out matching ones. He's smart and mean and keeps his trap shut.

"So we're looking at some other gang."

"Have the River Kings moved in on anyone other turf?" Whit asks this the way he asks everything; quietly and slowly paced. Whitney Elias Hail is a James Dean look-alike with a sadness that lingers around him.

"I haven't heard anything," Will says, and since Will has slept with a girl on almost every turf, he's a pretty good source of information, "But I'll look into it."

"All of you do. But I think it wasn't some other gang who did this. I think it was the River Kings."

Everyone turns to Tim.

"Think about it. This is the first fight between us since they started dancing around like that. And they were probably under the same order I gave you two."

There's a long pause.

"No way. It's one thing to slap around one of your own damn brothers. But he's half fucking blind."

"The Kings aren't like us, Red, you know that as well as I do. They think Tulsa is New York, and they're trying to do whatever they think it takes to make a quick buck."

Whit, he can see, is turning this idea over in his head. The rest look to shocked to contemplate it. He understands why. Your gang is your family, one you chose, and while you have to keep things in order sometimes, there ain't no sense in choosing a family full of punching bags.

"The River Kings," Whit says, and everyone strains to hear him, "Don't look at gangs like we do. At least, Harvey Norton doesn't. They aren't brothers, they aren't even members, they're _his_, it's not the same."

Tim nods.

"It ain't right," Will says.

"No, it ain't, but that isn't our problem." Tim pulls a smoke from the carton he keeps rolled in his sleeve, and lights it, "why does he want us to start the fight? _That's_ our problem."

"Like I said, I'll look into things." Will, somehow, can always find the answer if you give him time, "But Tim," he says, "I don't think this one is going to be easy."

* * *

The walk back from the bus stop is pretty long, and since it's getting late, Mattie calls for a ride. She dropped out of school a few months back, because a new beauty place opened up uptown and was offering to train girls for free to work there, and it paid pretty well considering you got to do hair and makeup all day. It had been the right choice for her and she never looked back, but waiting for a ride made her nervous, seeing how the bus station sometimes was thick with hoodlums.

She used to call Gerry to pick her up, but after the fiasco that Saturday, she calls Two Bit Matthews and hopes he's home. She's known Two Bit since before she could even talk, what with her and Sally Jo being best friends, and he'll always come get her if he isn't drunk or with some broad or out with his pals. One night he wasn't home and she had to call her uncle, who always smells like Tobacco and tries to run down stray cats.

Tonight, Two Bit answers.

"Matthews summer home, some are home, some are not."

"Hey Two Bit." Mattie keeps her sentences short since the breakup, because she always feels like her voice is going to crack if she doesn't.

"Hey, Kid, need another ride?"

"Yes please."

"Be there in a jiff- I hope you don't mind if I drag Pony along."

"Not at all.

"Great- wait inside."

"Sure thing."

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Smile, sunshine. I can here you frowning from all the way across town."

"Thanks, Two Bit."

She hangs up and heads inside the gas station store. There's a few guys with greasy palms and mean faces, but they know her and know a boy with tough friends picks her up, so they don't say anything. She buys a pack of gum, goes to the window, and waits.

Sally Jo and Gloria and her have been hanging out everyday, crying and eating ice cream and agreeing that Gerry is an ass, but it doesn't help much. He may be an ass, but he was her boyfriend for a long time. She _loved_ him, still loves him, and knowing he was sneaking around doesn't make it easier to forget him. That he hasn't even tried to talk to her doesn't help; she expected he would come after her or call her or apologize, but he didn't. Not that night, and not any night since. Gloria admitted, with a pained expression, that she heard he was going with the chick from Bucks now.

A car horn interrupts her thoughts, and she goes out and slides into the shot-gun seat of Two Bit's car.

"Hey, Two bit, hey, Ponyboy."

"Hey," Pony says. She only knows him through Two-Bit and Sally Jo, and through her cousin Emma, who's head over heels for him, but they're friendly enough.

"Hey, Kid. Mind if I drop off the other Kid first? School night and all, and I don't need Darry on my case."

"No problem."

Two Bit smiles and launches in to a story he'd been telling Pony, catching Mattie up quickly, and he's funny enough that Even Mattie cracks a smile she hasn't felt in days. From his glances in her direction, that was part of the point.

After he's done, Mattie turns to Pony.

"Hey, Emma told me you won some award for your writing. Congratulations." Pony is easy to talk to without crying, because you know the past few years have been tough for him and it makes your own problems seem small.

"Emma said that?"

Mattie, for the second time, smiles lightly.

"Yeah. She said she wanted to read your piece but you were being secretive."

"She never asked."

"She probably forgot. You know how she is, she talks so much she forgets what she's saying."

He laughs a little.

"Yeah. Well, thanks."

Two Bit smirks at her and softly hums the tune of one of those match-making shows, and Mattie resists the urge to swat at his arm, but Pony probably doesn't watch the show to get the joke.

He gets dropped off and waves goodbye, and Two Bit begins the drive to Mattie's house, which is a few blocks away.

"Thanks, again, for always coming to get me."

"How could I not? I'd miss all the exciting updates about Pony's love life."

"Well, maybe seeing a happy couple might make me feel better."

"Still not over that dipshit? Sure you don't want me to mess his face up for you?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, if you change your mind..."

"You'll be the first to know."

They drive in silence for a few moments, because Two Bit isn't good at helping with breakups unless it involves fists or jokes, when Mattie sees him.

"Hey- that guy. I know him."

"Who?"

"The one we just past."

"Black hair?"

"Yeah."

"You sure you know _him_?"

She looks in the mirror at his passing figure, but she's sure. The well-sculpted face, the slick black hair, the eyes like cut black glass, and the lean, but toned, muscle. She hasn't thought of him since she last saw him, but she's always had a good memory for faces.

"Well, not _know_ him. But we talked after... when I went outside at Bucks."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he told me I was pretty cute, he was really nice."

Two Bit bursts out laughing.

"What? What did I say?"

"Well, Mattie, if anyone could see the _nice_ is that boy, it would be you."

"Yo know him? Who is he."

"That, kid, was Timothy Shepard."

She sits in stunned silence for a whole block.

Then-

"Oh my god. Two Bit, I think I threw up in front of Tim Shepard."

He laughs all the way to her house, and for the first time since Saturday, Gerry doesn't occupy a single one of her thoughts.

* * *

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	3. Part Two

**Thanks for the reviews!**

Chapter Two

"I'm not sure about this."

Mattie is sitting in the backseat of Gloria's car, since Gloria and Sally Jo are upfront. She's in a black top with a low neckline and jeans that belong to Sally Jo, meaning they're pretty tight on her, and her hair is piled on her head so that she looks a bit like Audrey Hepburn. Her only comfort is in the baby pink lipstick she's got on, _French Pink_, which has been her color since a woman dropped it from her purse and Mattie's little eight-year-old hand grabbed it up. It looks good on her, and every month she saved up her allowance to spend the absurd amount it cost. Now that she works at the Salon, she can get it for almost cheap, so she had three tubes backed up in her drawer. It feels to her like a gun would feel in the hand of a boy. Like power.

Still, sitting outside Buck's with a face full of Makeup, all done by Gloria so it's smokey and heavy, she feels her stomach turn. She knows she looks nice enough- not at all like her, but nice enough anyways, but it's her first party since last week and she wants to throw up all over again.

"Look, Gerry has a game tomorrow, so he won't be here, okay? He may be a jerk but he's a _jock_ jerk."

Sally Jo Matthews is just about the best looking girl in town, except maybe Angela Sheppard, and she's a hell of a lot nicer. She's been Mattie's best friend since before Mattie knew what that was.

"I just don't know if I want to do this."

"Well I know, and you _do_"

Mattie only met Gloria when they began working together at the Salon, but she meshed well with her and Sally Jo and the three are now attached at the hip, to the point where Two Bit even stopped hitting on her. She's got more confidence and more blonde hair than Mattie would know what to do with.

Sighing, and knowing she'd be fighting a loosing battle if she kept insisting, Mattie steps out of the car.

A few kids are out in the yard, because a fight just happened, judging by the bleeding cut on some boys head. One of them happens to be Red whats-his-name, who catches sight of the girls and lets out a long whistle. Gloria hooks arms with Mattie and Sally Joe, and walks past him rolling her eyes. Red is like a bad smell; you dislike him at first and want him to go away, but eventually you get used to him and find him kind of comforting, in some stupid way. Mattie doesn't really know him, except he used to be in a few of her classes when she was sin school, but he reminds her of Tim Shepard, and she blushes.

Gloria must catch on, because she bumps hips with Mattie and whispers _"He_ probably isn't here, either."

Inside is warm, and there's cowboy music playing. Mattie doesn't mind it, but Sally Jo does and goes off in search of Buck, who will do almost anything she asks if she only bats her eyes, including switching the music to one of the few good records he owns.

Gloria disappears as well, on the arm of a boy with pretty blue eyes.

"Have fun!" she calls as she's dragging him to the center of the dancing, "Live a little!"

Mattie just makes a small noise of protest, and then, seeing that she's alone and teetering in heels that are to high for her, she walks to a wall and leans against it, observing the room. There are couples dancing close and a few getting rather forward. A boy is whispering something to a pretty redhead, who laughs and follows him up the stairs. A few boys are slamming down shots at a table, jeering and mocking each other.

Then a boy walks in, a few others with him, and the place gets quieter for a few moments. Two boys leave out the back, and the party that just enters disperse. The volume resumes. Mattie looks at the man who lead the whole thing; he's got greased black hair and a smile that looks as if it were slashed into his tan, leathery face.

He meets her eyes, and she looks away as quickly as she can, but it's too late. He's making a B line towards her.

"Hey, Darlin'," he says, his voice like metal in an oil slick.

"Hello." she tries not to seem nervous, but this guy gives her the creeps. She desperately searches for Gloria or Sally Jo, but the crowd is large and they're mixed up in it.

"You know, I saw you looking earlier, so feel free to take your fill now."

"I just noticed you, that's all."

His smile falls in a sharp motion. Mattie feels her gut twist.

"And what would you be noticing?"

"That... that you walked in, that's it, really."

She shrinks into herself a little, and he takes notice. His smile comes back, as awful as before, and that frightens her more than just about anything.

"Really? And If I don't believe you?"

"I don't see what's not to believe."

He pauses, glaring down at her in a way that makes her want to curl up.

"I'm not sure you caught my name. Well, let me tell it to ya- it's Harvey Norton."

Her stomach drops and she curses her luck that this would be the week for her to have run ins with two of Tulsa's worst.

"So listen, Darlin', I'm gonna ask you again. What would you be noticing?"

"Probably how ugly that damn mug of yours is."

Harvey turns around, and it's like the meeting of two titans.

"Shepard."

From this angle, Mattie can tell that his eye's aren't really black, just a hard, dark blue. He's got a scar running temple to chin, and his nose is crooked, so he's not really _handsome_, but there's something attractive about him. Nothing you could pin-point in any of his features, but it draws one in. Or at least, it draws Mattie in, because she immediately steps away from Norton and toward Shepard. It doesn't escape either boy's notice, and Norton's eyes narrow.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"It ain't illegal for me to come to a party. But I came to talk to you."

"Then say what you want to say, and stop harassing chicks."

There's a tense pause. Then Norton smiles.

"I just thought I'd let you know that tramp little sister of yours has been running around our side of town, stirring up trouble. You should keep a leash on her."

Tim's fist flexes, but doesn't move. He's containing himself.

"What my sister does is her own business. And we don't feel the need to keep our girls with leashes. Though I've heard you attach a cow bell to your girl."

There's no light in either boy's eyes as Norton continues.

"It usually wouldn't bother me that your side likes your girl's-" he looks Mattie up and down, and she steps further behind Tim - "_trashy_, but get your sister away from my boys."

"Maybe you should control your boys- get them away from my sister, if you're that threatened by a sixteen year old girl."

"We'll see, Shepard. I guess we'll see."

he turns then, nods to the boys he came in with, and they leave. Tim watches him go, and Mattie's legs are to shaky for her to risk moving.

Once he leaves, Tim turns to her.

"You don't actually look trashy. He just said that to get to me."

"Hm- oh. Oh, uh, thanks?"

He smirks, but not entirely unkindly. It's almost as if that's the closest he gets to actually smiling.

"If anything, I'd say the lack of vomit classes you up."

"Is that... meant to be a compliment?"

"If you want to take it as one, I won't object."

"Well, in that case, thanks. Again."

"No problem."

He takes a carton from his sleeve, pulls out a cigarette, and lights it with a lighter he must have lifted from someone or someplace with money.

"In it safe to assume you don't smoke?"

"Not even a puff."

"You look like that type."

They stand in silence that is neither comfortable nor awkward.

"You know, for a guy with your rep, you've been awfully nice to me."

He quirks a brow at her.

"Am I now? Well, I can't have you thinking that, can I."

He isn't smiling, but his eyes sort of are in a way that keeps her from getting shaken by him.

"Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?"

She can't believe she's standing here, grinning and teasing Tim Shepard. She supposed once you throw up in front of someone, it gets hard to be to worried about how dumb you look to them.

Tim leans towards her, still smirking, and Mattie is so shocked she doesn't even move from her spot.

"Trust me, doll," he says in a low voice that does something pretty nice to her stomach, as his eyes keep locked on hers, "what I'm gonna do ain't something nice folks like us discuss in public."

He leans back then, taking a drag, and grins.

"I'll be seeing you around."

And he's gone, just like every thought Mattie was going to entertain that night about Gerry.

* * *

"So Norton came into Bucks with a cheep pretense to insult your sister?"

Quill may be street smart, and Red may have read every book under the sun, and Will may be a social animal, but it Tim's inner circle has a thinker, it's Whit. Which is why Tim seeks him out.

"Yep."

"He's desperate for a fight."

"One he knows he can't win?"

"Not necessarily. I don't think he was expecting you to bust him up right there in Bucks. He probably expected you to tell him where to rumble so he could bring his buddies."

Whit's mother was a soc, once. Then she eloped with his dad and got disowned, but she never stopped living that life style, even when her husband died and the income stopped coming. Whit works seven nights a week and a few days as well doing custom jobs on bikes and making good money, but it all goes to keeping the bills paid and food on the table. That's why he joined the gang; he needed a family that knew how tough it was just to go another day.

"What do you think is going on?"

Tim isn't a thinker so much as he is a solver. Give him a problem and he'll give you a solution, but figuring out what the problem is in the first place drives him up the wall.

Whit takes a long moment to think.

"They want to prove their strength, but not their violence." he frowns, a crease forming between his brows, and somewhere, a girl feels a pang in her heart and a sense of longing. "I think there's a third party involved."

Tim exhales slowly, considering this. It makes sense, he guesses. More sense than anything else.

"You sure?"

"They're trying to prove themselves, and I don't think it's to themselves."

Tim nods.

"Alright then. I'll get the boys on this. You should get back to work."

Whit nods, and Tim moves to get in to the car.

"Hey, Tim," the younger boy calls.

"Yeah?"

"Watch out for that girl Norton was harassing. If you stepped in before he saw you coming, he probably was genuinely interested in her. And if she acted the way you said she did, he may think there's something between you two."

Tim scoffs.

"No way, Whit."

"Tim, Harvey Norton is a paranoid, jealous man. If he was given even the smallest sign that you knew her name, he's going to go crazy."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind."

He gets into the car then and peels off toward Red's usual hang out.

On his way, he figure he mights as well think of the girl.

He didn't catch her name, so he's been mentally referring to her as _Dollface_, because of the arsenal of appropriate pet names he's go at his disposal, that one fits her best, with her big eyes and pink lips. He likes her. It's rare that he thinks that about a girl. He's _attracted_ to a lot of girls, sure, but normally they're boring or stupid or annoying. And she may yet prove to be all of those things, but she's sweet and pretty and so far fun to kid around with. And he can't deny the thought of getting with her isn't exactly an unpleasant one.

So if Norton thinks he's gonna sink his meat hooks into her, Tim has no problem with him also thinking that Tim will knock his teeth in if he does-

_Well, shit_.

He hopes Whit is wrong about this thing with the girl. Because he ain't gonna give Norton what he wants, but assaulting a girl like her isn't something that sits well with him. And if Norton thinks that's the way to get to Tim, it's what he's going to go for.

He hopes she's got a brother, or something close to. He'll ask around. A girl like her doesn't deserve having Norton on her case. He still remembers Mary Chapman walking into school, after moving out of RK turf, and no girl deserves to have that look int their eyes.

* * *

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	4. Part Three

**Thanks for the reviews!**

Part Three

"Julian Cortez."

"Yep."

"Fucking Julian _Cortez_."

"That's what I said, right."

"that fucking asshole."

Tim is in the garage again. Will is there, explaining what some pretty blonde whispered to him, as are Red and Whit.

"This the same guy who peddles drugs to eleven year olds?" Red asks.

"Yeah. He's a piece of shit who would do anything for a cheap buck."

"Well then why is he talking to Norton?"

"Because he's an attention hog."

They all turn to Whit.

"Think about it. Norton's side has been getting pretty bad since Jason Dowler moved there and brought half the Tiber Street Tigers. So Norton wants guns, and Cortez works so far outside the law he's the quickest and cheapest way to get them."

"But that doesn't explain about the RKs wanting us to start shit," Will throws in. He's not to god at piecing things together and sometimes he gets antsy when he thinks he's missing something.

"Let me finish, would you? Here's the thing; Cortez is a flashy guy. He likes to know that people are going to be talking. And guns are harder to come by then drugs, so he's going to want to sell them to someone who he thinks is going to use them, but not people so trigger-happy they could get him in trouble."

Tim gets it then.

"So if we start something, and they fight back, they can show that they _need_ the guns and don't just _want_ them."

"Right. They'll be used but not overused, in theory."

"But why us?" Red asks, "Why not the Tigers?"

"Because Norton hates Tim's guts."

That's news to everyone but Tim and Red.

"It's a long story and it doesn't matter. All you need to know is that if Norton fucks this up, he probably won't get any weapons. Will, you start seeing figuring out what guys we can pick off easily. Whit, Red, you go talk to our good old friend Connie."

He pulls on his jacket and heads towards his car.

"And you?"

Tim smirks and Whit.

"I'm going to mark my turf."

* * *

It's been three days since the party when Mattie decides she had too do something about Tim Shepard.

It's all because of these stupid dreams she's been having lately, and frankly, they need to stop, because they're entirely inappropriate. She doesn't even know why they're happening; she's never been the type to have dirty dreams before, least of all about a near stranger. It's not that she's the virgin Mary or something- she and Gerry were pretty intimate, even if it was infrequent, but for some reason she never had that kind of dream about anyone. Not until now.

And she's pretty sure her mother is starting to take notice of the lack of steam in the bathroom after she showers.

She doesn't know _what_ she has to do about it, though. It's never been a problem she's had. So, like all confusing things, she asks Sally Jo and Gloria.

They're on Sally Jo's bed, painting their nails and eating pizza. They've got homemade mask on their face, and Sally Jo is letting a color treatment sink into her hair.

"So let me get this straight," Sally Jo says, "you threw up in front of Tim Shepard, and he was nice to you."

"Yeah."

"And then," Gloria picks up, "he saves you from Harvey Norton and is smoldering and nonchalantly nice."

"Yes."

"What were his exact words?"

"_What I'm gonna do about it isn't something nice people like us talk about in public_."

"And so," Sally Jo concludes, "you're now having dirty dreams about him."

"Yeah. That's my problem."

"I don't see how that's a _problem_. A minor inconvenience, maybe, but still."

"Gloria! I do not have sex dreams about hoodlums!"

"No shame in it if you do," Sally Jo says with a grin. "But if it's bothering you, I know the solution. It's simple."

Gloria nods in agreement.

"Really? What is it?"

They answer her in unison.

"You need to sleep with him."

Mattie near chokes on her pizza.

"No way."

"It's the _only_ way, honey. You're subconscious realizes you're attraction to him is unfulfilled, so it's trying to make up for the difference. But dreams don't compare to the real thing, so you keep having them because your brain keeps trying to reconstruct them. It's science."

"Not science they teach at any school."

"That's because society is trying to tell young women that they should be ashamed of their sexuality. But that's beside the point. Sally Jo, back me up on this."

"She's right. Everyone knows it."

"Well I can't sleep with Tim Shepard."

"Sure you can. You're cute with sexy potential. Guys love that. And Tim isn't really that hard to get in the sack when you're as pretty as you are."

"Thanks, but that's not what I meant."

"Come on, Mattie, would it be so bad? I mean, you've had sex before, right?" Sally Jo knows the answer to that, because after it happened for the first time Mattie called her in tears.

"Yes, but only with Gerry."

"And we all know how he was. Trust me, I've heard Tim hasn't got any of Gerry's problems." Gloria winks as she speaks.

Mattie blushes. Maybe she divulged a little to much information to her friends, but it wasn't like there was anyone else to talk to. It wasn't that Gerry wasn't_ good_, he was just always a bit preoccupied with himself unless she said something or asked him to do something specific, but those times were rare.

"Look, if you want to stop dreaming about him, you need to sleep with him. It's not that big of a deal."

"Exactly. Look- Hey! Two Bit!" Gloria calls. In a few moments, Sally Jo's brother appears at the door.

"You called- holly shit! What are you doing to your faces? Trying to discourage peeping toms?"

"They're facial masks. We're beautifying ourselves." Mattie says with a grin.

"Hate to tell you this, kid, but it ain't improving your looks much."

"It works when you take it off, stupid." Sally Jo says, flicking a Cherry Sour at him. He catches it and pops it in his mouth.

"Two Bit, if you're having dreams about someone, what's the best way to get rid of them?" Gloria asks. If it embarrasses her at all to ask Two Bit about this, it doesn't show.

"Well, you have to make your dreams a reality, if you catch my drift."

"We do. Thanks!"

he shakes his head as if to say _girls are weird_, but leaves. He mentioned earlier he had a date with the cute blonde who waited tables on the weekends.

"See?"

"I still don't like the idea."

"Have you _seen_ Tim Shepard?"

"That is hardly what I meant."

"Mattie, we aren't saying you should throw yourself at him and beg him to take you against the nearest surface. But put some feelers out. If nothing else, it'll help you move past Gerry."

Mattie caps the bottle of pink nail polish she was using, and lays down on the bed. Sleep with Tim Shepard to stop _dreaming_ about sleeping with Tim Shepard. It makes only a microscopic amount of sense.

"There's a get together in the lot behind that closed grocery store, right? One a lot of people might be at?" she finally asks, defeated.

"Yeah, there's going to be a bonfire and everything."

"Well, if you two wanna go once it gets a bit darker..."

Sally Jo smiles and Gloria squeals.

"But I'm doing my own makeup!"

* * *

**Sorry it's a short chapter, I've been a little swamped lately.**

**Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


	5. Part Four

**Notes**: sorry for the long wait! Life has been a bit hectic lately. To make it up to you, here's a chapter that's all Tim. He's a bit tougher to write than Mattie is, but I liked his P.O.V. On this.

**Part Four**

Tim isn't sure how he expected to find a chick who's name he doesn't even know, but one thing that he's certain about is that Angela is his best bet.

"So all you know is that she's cute and was cheated on."

"By some guy named Gerry. Yeah."

His sister heaves a sigh and rolls her eyes. She's the only girl he's ever met who isn't afraid of any guy on earth. Hell, she'd probably challenge Darry Curtis if she thought she could gain something by it, and even Tim knows not to fuck with that guy. Then again, most of the time girls don't have to worry about a guy busting their ribs.

"God, Tim, you're so hopeless. What would you even do without me?"

"Be able to kick back and relax, for once. Do you know her or not?"

Angela rolls her eyes again. She's going to get migraines if she keeps it up.

"Does she wear baby pink lipstick? A really nice shade?"

"Shit, Angela, I wasn't paying attention to her makeup."

She rummages in a drawer for a moment and pulls out a sleek silver tube he knows she didn't pay for.

She uncaps it and shows it to him.

"Were her lips this color."

"Yeah, actually."

"And _Gerry_ cheated on her."

"Yep."

"That's Mattie Smith, she's my guess."

"Mattie Smith?"

"That's what I said, isn't it? Wendy knows her pretty well, I think, but she mostly runs with Sally Jo Matthews and Gloria George. She's a sweet girl and she always wears this lipstick. It's kind of her signature."

"Know where I can find her?"

"Well she works at some fancy salon, but now? I don't know, check the bonfire behind the old grocers. Gloria is kind of a party hound- and a total whore, by the way- so maybe they went together."

"Thanks."

He gets up to leave her room.

"Hey, why are you looking for her?"

"Long story."

"I can keep a secret, you know."

"No, you can't."

She just grins, and Tim leaves.

He's not about to tell his kid sister that he's potentially dragging a girl into a pretty ugly situation to prove a point to Harvey Norton. Angela, for all her temper tantrums and jealousy issues, is pretty insistent that girls should stick up for girls, provided those girls don't fuck boys she likes.

She's kind of a contradiction that way.

He was hoping to avoid that bonfire; it's on Brumley turf. He's on good terms with the Brumley Boy's leader and a few of their higher up guys, but some of the guys don't like him for whatever reason. He guesses he's just not a very likable guy. But if Whit is right, and if there's one thing he's learned is that Whit is usually right about these things, then Tim getting with Mattie will piss Norton off.

He thinks about that as he starts driving, because he doesn't fucking get it. How could you get so worked up over a girl you met once? Even if she was the best looking dame in town (which the Doll faced girl sure as hell isn't, even if she is really damn pretty) he can't get his head around being so invested in any chick you haven't been dating for a solid year. And he's never really gotten that far with one girl.

Besides, Mattie doesn't seem like the type you want to be invested in.

He likes her, sure, but not so much that he's feeling to bad about dragging her into things. It isn't like he plans of letting her get into any real trouble; he's going to use her to piss off Norton then get her the fuck out of the picture. He figures if she's friends with the Matthews girl she's probably got the bigger Matthews watching her back, so worse comes to worse he can count on the Curtis gang to step in. Which isn't much, but it's enough for one damn chick.

Besides, he knows Norton's shit is with him.

He only hopes she isn't going to get too attached. He knows she's the crying type and he doesn't want to deal with that. It's a shame he may have to hurt her, because he thinks she's nice enough and she isn't the type he normally messes around with. He's pretty good at picking up chicks who he knows aren't really looking for more than he's offering. But Mattie strikes him as the type of girl looking for a white picket fence, two kids, a dog, and retirement plan wrapped up in one shiny male package. And that ain't him.

He's thinking there might be some way to work around her feelings, maybe let her in on things a bit, but he's not sure. He's sort of playing it by ear. The plan now is just piss off Norton, and if he can do that without making false promises, he'd prefer it. He's got a thing about liars.

He finds her at the bonfire with comedic ease, on the outskirts, talking with a few girls in a cluster. Red calls it the _iron curtain of genitals_, because if you have a dick there's now way to break in.

He parks and gets out of the car, taking in the scene. A few Brumley boys are there, mostly drunk past the point of being an issue. One or two of his boys are there, and they nod at him. He doesn't spot any RKs, which is a shame.

Someone walks up to him and holds out his hand.

"Beer is three bucks, man."

"I'm not drinking."

The guys expression turns sour.

"Don't try and sneak any by- we don't like that shit around here. You pay up if you're gonna-"

"I said I'm not drinking."

The guy sputters something and walks off. Tim takes this as his cue and heads towards Mattie's cluster. One girl, a real bombshell blonde, notices him and nudges her friend. Once everyone's eyes are on him, and it's clear he isn't changing his path, the group dissolves, lead by the blonde, leaving Mattie stranded and blushing, her mouth open as if to protest, but he's reached her before she can say anything.

"I like you're friends," he says once he reaches her, "their subtle."

She looks down and blushes, tucking some hair behind her ear.

He takes a good look at her; he notices the lipstick now, and decides she makes pink look good and not little-girly, which is kind of rare. He also notices that the top of her head just reaches his chin, that she isn't as curve-less as he thought, and that she looks good in white.

"You know them, real masters of stealth," she says. She doesn't have the same teasing tone to her voice as she did the other day; she sounds bashful, somehow, and she's blushing.

"They gonna miss you?"

"No- I'll see them later anyways."

"Good. Then how bout you and I go for a drive?"

That shocks her. He figures she's used to being courted.

"Don't worry. All good intentions here."

"I doubt that. Where are you parked?"

He nods toward his car and heads off in that direction, not bothering to see if she's following. He knows she is, and the click of her shoes confirms it.

She sits in the passenger seat daintily, with her hands clasped in his lap and her head turned a little down.

"My name is Mattie, by the way," she says when they're on the street. "Thought you might want to know."

"Relax, I wasn't lying before; I don't plan on taking you in the backseat or anything."

That seems to be a surprise to her, and he sort of wonders why she got into the car with him if she thought that was the case.

"Well, that's reassuring. It seems kind of cramped back there."

There's still that hesitation in her voice. He thinks back to the night at Bucks, when she teased him in a way that was sweet but confident. He kind of wants to get that from her, because in a weird way it was kind of nice to hear a girl who wasn't flirting or stuttering. He figures maybe it didn't hit her then, that she was dealing with a slightly infamous gang leader. But suddenly the though of leading her on seems a bit pointlessly cruel, and while Tim is as mean as they come, he likes to be mean with a purpose. If there's a way to get her on board without having to deal with emotional fallout, he'll take it.

So he figures he'll take a calculated risk.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh? oh. Um, okay?"

"You remember Harvey Norton from Bucks, right?"

She's silent for a moment.

"Yeah. I remember him."

"Well, you'll remember he and I aren't exactly best friends."

"I think that came across a little, yeah. Is this going somewhere?"

Her vice has that same tone that Curly's does when the topic of school is brought up. Reluctant and slightly afraid.

"Well, I've got a pal, Whit. He's pretty smart about people, and he thinks Norton may have a slight interest in you."

"_What_?"

"That's what I said."

"I've only met him once! And I don't think I made a very good impression!"

"Doll, if you think something as sensible as that applies to out pal Norton, you're as crazy as he is. Look, he was planning on doing _something_ with you before I stepped in, if you wanted it or not. And me stepping in didn't help you much in the long run."

His eyes are on the road, but he can practically feel her expression. It _feels_ like a Kicked puppy.

"Look, I don't think it's too much of an issue, but Whit thinks it would be good to keep an eye on you. And Whit is pretty smart about people."

"You said that already," she tells him quietly.

He shrugs, and takes another risk.

"Look, I'm not a fan of lying, so I'm gonna be honest here. I've got my own motive for this whole thing."

"Oh?"

"Like I said, I've got beef with Norton."

"And if he is caught up on me, it'll look good for you if you're seen with me."

"Good deduction."

"But if he _isn't_, you're just throwing me back into his sight."

"Calculated risk."

they drive a couple of blocks in silence, and Tim hopes he hasn't made the wrong choice by being honest. But he sort of has faith in this girl. She was willing to get into his car, and that means on some level, she isn't scared of him. And he hasn't met a girl he can say that about who's as genuinely nice as this girl.

"Tim," she says finally.

"Yeah?"

"I kind of would have preferred it if you had just been planning on taking me in the back seat."

He chuckles. She isn't as cut and dry as he thought, and he sort of likes that.

"Why does this Whit guy think Norton would still even care about me?"

"Because Norton doesn't like girls who don't give him what he wants. Especially girls who look small and easy to overpower."

"Especially girls who look like dolls?"

"You may not want my opinion, cause I've got a stake in this, but yeah."

He takes advantage of a red light to look over at her face, and he catches her right before she cracks. He may have freaked her out a bit tonight, and she's on her last leg dealing with what must be a weird twist in her life, so she cracks up.

Tim hits the gas pedal when the light turns, and she's laughing her ass off.

"Well, fuck. Would you believe half an hour ago all I wanted out of you was to get laid?" she doubles over, still laughing.

"Seriously, I've been having sex dreams about you, you know. And everyone said if I slept with you, they'd go away. But here I am, knee-deep in gang shit, and I would really fucking prefer the dreams."

He digests this as she laughs, because the thought of sober little Mattie having dirty dreams about him is kind of amusing, and also strangely flattering. And that she came straight out and admitted it, albeit more due to stress than anything else, is downright perfect. But as her laughing subsides and she sits up straight, he wipes his smirk away.

She's not laughing, but her face is bright pink. He decides not to give in to temptation and make it worse by delving into what she just said.

"Where do you live?"

"Near the library- but can you drop me back at the Matthew's place? I'm spending the night with friends."

They drive in silence, her blush fading away and a sort of sadness that reminds him of Whit settling over her features. He decides she looks better when she's happy.

"I'll play along," she finally says, when they turn onto the right street.

"Hm?"

"I think, from what I can tell- I guess- anyways, I think if Norton doesn't care enough not to do anything on his own, he won't be any worse about me if he sees me with you. You know? And if pretending we're a thing, or whatever, is going to piss him off- I'm figuring you think having him angry will help you deal with him, or something- I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'll take me chances with you. Because I think you can make it so Norton isn't going to be much of a worry for _me_. If that makes any sense."

He nods. That worked out pretty well for him, he guesses.

They pull in front of the house, and park. Before she gets out, Tim turns to her.

"Look, I ain't exactly a night in shinning armor, but Norton's not gonna get to you through me, so don't sweat it too much."

She smiles and steps out of the car, waving to him and walking up the driveway, and he finally gives in to temptation.

"Hey, Mattie!" he calls, and she turns around, "Sweet dreams."

and then he's off, her blushing face in his side-view mirror.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed! Please review!**


	6. Part Five

**Thanks fr the reviews!**

**Part Five**

It's raining when Mattie gets back home after work the next day.

Two Bit drops her off with a concerned expression and a reminder to call him if she needs help, because She told him, at Sally Jo and Gloria's prompting, about what Tim had filled her in on the previous night. She had begged him not to make a big deal out of it, and to keep quiet, and he had agreed, but Mattie had a feeling that at the very least the Curtis brothers would hear about it and be told to be on the lookout.

She felt awful; the Curtis boys were real good guys, and they had more to worry about than silly old her. Though, truth be told, two years ago her heart would have skipped to think that Darry Curtis might be keeping an eye on her, things were different now.

Mattie's home wasn't so much a _house_ as it was a hodgepodge collection of rooms pieced together with little to no logical order. It was bigger than most houses on the block, but cheaper, because until her dad had invested some money into it, it was in complete shambles. Even now, the house was still a confusing mess of rooms that could only be fixed if it was demolished and rebuilt.

The problem, or at least, the central problem among many, was that the ground floor was split in two halves that could only be reached if you went up to the second floor and then down a different staircase. Her father had wanted to put a door in, but upon inspecting the budged, decided that they could climb a flight of stairs and cross through some hallways to get food from the kitchen to the dinning room, if it meant they had working plumbing and the roof wouldn't collapse mid-meal.

To get to her room, Mattie has to get to the other side of the house and cross through the kitchen, and then double back through this weird little hallway. It was nice in that she has a sort of secluded area of the house all to herself, but problematic because in order to sneak out she had to crawl through a window or risk traipsing past her mom's room.

Now, the house is almost empty.

Mattie knows that deep within the maze of rooms is her Father, sleeping in a dark room on a mattress without sheets. But her father isn't something she talks about. Victor Smith exists in happy memories and picture frames; it's easiest not to think of the man on that bed as her _papa_. There used to be good times; periods of a few weeks or even months when he was sober as a monk, smiling, happy, with color back in his cheeks and hope in his voice, until the inevitable night when Mattie would come home and find a bottle of jack half-empty on the counter, and knew her father was back in that room again. The time between the beginning of hope and the regression got shorter and shorter, and Mattie was sure that any thought her dad had about sobriety was now only a fleeting thing.

Her fathers drinking had started when she was just seven or so, when the new baby wasn't born. When Mattie tries, she can remember the swell of her mothers stomach and the glow on her face. She can't remember _that night_, the one that so wholly ruined her father, but she remembers the weeks after, when it became clear everything had changed.

Her mother, thankfully, was still her mother, even if she slept in a different room than her dad, and spent more time at work than she had to. Without her and Ms. Matthews, Mattie wouldn't have survived until her tenth birthday.

There's a note on the fridge- when Mattie finally reached it, saying that her mom would be home for dinner by seven, asking her to start defrosting the chicken. She mentioned Emma possibly stopping by for dinner, if her study date finished early.

Mattie follows through with the instructions automatically, waiting for the day when she can move out of this stupid house with its stupid memories. This house is so inexplicable _dad_ to her that it can be painful to breath when she's alone like this. That's why she spends most of her time at work or the Matthews place or anywhere but home during the day. People are good distractions.

Of course, she's got a bigger distraction looming over her head now, in the shape of two hoods and a mess of danger.

In a way, it's almost easier to focus on Norton than on Tim. Norton is vague, if dangerous, and while he scares her, he's got this far-off feeling to him. Does he terrify her? Absolutely. But he does so in the way that the bogey man or Dracula does, almost like a mythical creature who mothers tell their children about to scare them.

Tim doesn't scare her- at least, not in any tangible way. But she'd be lying if she said she was at ease with him. Her slip up last night- her humiliating, horrible slip up, may have given him the idea that she was comfortable with him, but she was anything but. Sitting next to him was like next to a loaded gun. Sure, there was no guarantee it would go off, but it was always possible. Especial with so many people eager to pull the trigger.

Her thoughts are interrupted as Emma comes down the stairs, hair tied up in a bow, and a different shade of lipstick on than normal; a peachy color that Mattie remembers buying her for Christmas. It's an expensive thing Emma can't buy for herself, so she only wears it on special occasions.

"Hey, Mattie," she says in a sing-song voice, plopping down at the table.

"Hi, Emma. You seem to be in a good mood."

The girl- younger than her by three years or so, grins so widely Mattie could swear she sees all of her teeth.

"I was studying."

"Oh?"

"With a friend."

"Well, I'm glad you had fun."

Emma pouted.

"Mattie, aren't you gonna ask _which_ friend?"

"Do you want to tell me?"

"Ponyboy Curtis!"

For a minute, Mattie panics, wondering if Pony finds out, will he tell Emma, but she calms herself. Ponyboy is a smart kid. He knows better.

"Well, that's fantastic."

"We studied at the diner- you know, the one near the movies? We barely spent any time on school work and he payed for my milkshake!"

Mattie smiles. Emma may be a bit of a handful, but she was smarter than people gave her credit for, and stronger and nicer too. It was easy to dismiss her as nothing but a chatterbox, but Emma had a good heart at the end of the day and Pony seemed to see that just as much as Mattie did.

"It sounds like he really likes you."

"Do you think so? He is a pretty nice guy to everyone."

"I do."

"Well, I'm glad you think so. You were always so lucky when it came to boys."

Mattie isn't sure if she should laugh or cry, so instead she just offers to make them some Shirley Temples.


	7. Part Six

**Thanks for the reviews! Standard disclaimer applies.**

**Again, sorry for the wait; packing up for college has proven more stressful than I though.**

**Part Six**

Tim loves Curly in the way he loves fights. He doesn't really enjoy it, but there's something in his blood that forces him to keep going.

"I swear to god, you try something as brain dead as that again and I'll put your face through a meat grinder," Tim growls as he pulls Curly away from the eight very pissed, very bloody socs the dolt had tried to pick a fight with.

"It would be an improvement, if you did," Red chimes in, kind of unhelpfully.

If Tim and his inner circle hadn't been driving by just as Curly and his two pals (neither of whom were part of the gang, or had a snowball's chance in hell of getting in, whatever Curly promised them) had been about to be pummeled by the guys, they would have gotten a good look at whether the alteration to his face would have been a nice one.

Curly had Tim's basic look, except the parts that made it attractive, and Tim's basic demeanor, except for the things that made him intimidating.

Thankfully, Tim and his boys had evened the numbers out, and the fight had been easier than expected.

"Come on, Tim, lemme go."

Curly yanks his arm back with all his weight just as Tim complies, sending the kid to his ass. His two friends snigger, but shut up when the five older boys around them give them a glare that clearly says _you're lucky it isn't you_.

They're in an alley near a few shops now, and the tension is kind of high.

"You two get lost," Tim tells Curly's friends. The blonde guy looks like he wants to protest, but his friend nudges him, and they leave.

Whit is leaning against the wall, and Will is sitting on a dumpster. Red and Quill flank Tim, facing Curly.

"Some pals you got," Quill says, as Curly stands and brushes himself off.

"Shut up, asshole."

Curly reminds Tim in a mink. A mean, angry mink with tough hair and a small brain.

"You're the only one who needs to be watching your trap here, Curly. Your mouth is gonna get you stabbed." Red has always been comfortable with tearing into Curly like he was his own brother. Tim wishes he'd treat Angela more like a sister, but that's for another time.

"Fuck you-"

"Cut the shit."

Curly turns to his big brother.

"They were asking for it-"

"No, you were. And if you were any less lucky, you would have gotten it."

Curly glares at the ground.

"I don't know what I have to do to get it past your thick skull that there ain't a single tough thing about getting into a fight you can't win."

"Really? Cuz you fought Dally all the time."

That was a dumb thing to say; Tim's fist connects with Curly's jaw. The boy falls, again.

"See? Nothing tough about it. Next time you're about to get your ass handed to you, I'll let it happen. Until then, you can stop coming to gang meetings."

That shocks everyone, and Curly's head shoots up.

"Tim, you can't."

"Yeah, I damn well can."

"I'm a fucking Shepard, you can't kick me out of the _Shepard_ gang-"

"You ain't _out_. You're taking a break. And if you want off vacation, get your shit together."

Curly looks like he wants to fight, but Whit pushes off the wall, and while the gesture may not seem threatening, something about it just _is_. Whit has always freaked Curly out for reasons Tim can't discern. He guesses that it's because Curly doesn't know Whit, so maybe his cool, quiet behavior seems like it comes from a place of danger rather than thoughtfulness.

"Whatever, man. Fuck you."

He leaves in the same direction as his pals. The five boys stand there for a moment, before Will speaks.

"Your brother is a real shit pot."

"He just feels inferior. He needs time to grow into his own, away from you."

Tim, and everyone else, looks at Whit like he's crazy.

"What he needs is a good kick in the teeth, if you ask me," Red chimes in.

Tim raises his brows at him, and Red holds his hands up in mock defense.

"Just if you're taking suggestions."

"What do you mean about the whole inferior thing?" Will asks. Hopping off the dumpster and joining their little circle.

Whit explains, never taking his eyes off Tim.

"Imagine you had a brother who was better than you at just about everything. You want to make them proud, but you don't know how. So you try to be them, but never can, and you get a little resentful. And it's a cycle, where you try and fail and get more and more bitter so you try again. Curly needs to find an identity separate from Tim or he'll never stop failing."

"Wouldn't it be better if he just didn't fail?" Quill asks.

"Man, Curly's middle name might as well be failure." Red says.

Will frowns.

"I thought it was Albert?"

"Look, this isn't the point here-" Tim begins, but then their conversation is cut off by a deep, sultry voice.

"Well, wold you look at that. A bunch of hoodlums in an ally way, up to no good."

Tim recognizes her as Mattie's friend, the looker, leaning against the wall in jeans to tight.

"Gloria, long time no see," Red says with a sort of feral smirk. Tim might be worried, expect this chick looks like she can handle herself.

"Not long enough." She turns to Tim. "You. Look, I'm only gonna say this once, but I've got my eye on you, and if _one bad thing_ happens to-"

"Gloria? Are you down here?"

That's when Mattie rounds the corner, and Gloria's face goes from something you might see in the seconds before you die, to a bright smile.

"Mattie, look who I found!"

She looks real nice that day, Tim thinks. Her hair is curled like a movie star from an old film, and her lashes look like they can cast their own shadow. Right now, of course, she reminds him of a deer in headlights.

"Oh. Um. Hi."

"Hey," he responds.

Everyone stands in confused silence for a moment.

"I never got your number," he finally says, walking towards her, giving off what he's been told is his "cool vibe". He adjusts his shoulders and squares his jaw and apparently looks like he's got a handle on the world. it comes in useful.

"Oh, right. Give me a second-" she whips a pen out of somewhere, girls always seem to have hidden compartments in their bags, "here give me your arm."

He does as she asks and she scrawls, in big looping figures, her number. He wonders if she's doing it on purpose, the way boys will sling their arms around their girls when there's other guys around; to mark them. She doesn't seem like the type, though; she probably just doesn't have paper.

"This'll wash off pretty soon."

"Then you'd better call me tonight," she grins, and he gets another flash of confident Mattie. The Mattie he likes. "I get off work at six."

"Where do you work?"

"The Blue Lady Salon."

"I'll be there. You know my car."

Her brows raise in surprise, and he feels his lips tug up into a smile.

"Well, then, I guess I'll be seeing you."

"I guess so."

Mattie turns to Gloria, who now has an unreadable expression on her face.

"Come on, bus leaves soon. Bye"

With a final look at the boys and a half-hearted wave, the girls depart.

Everyone is silent for a few moments.

"Well," Red finally says, "I think I'm a bit lost. Care to explain?"

"You know what?" he's still looking after her, "I really don't."

* * *

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